


Second

by MachineQueen



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drunkenness, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Second Kiss, formal occasions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-31 06:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen/pseuds/MachineQueen
Summary: Ingrid and Dorothea go looking for potential future husbands during the Garreg Mach welcome gala.But how can any kiss measure up to the one Ingrid was given by her lost love?





	Second

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of the Ingrid/Dorothea paralogue and me wondering if Ingrid ever got to kiss Glenn before he died.
> 
> Ingrid needs more love! <3
> 
> @machinequeen4 on Twitter

Ingrid smoothed the silk of her skirt and tried not to stand too awkwardly. Balls were not her forte. She was fine when she could stand with the men and talk sparring and battle tactics. But her father had made it clear that he wanted her to act more like a lady. Ingrid had said she would try but it made her feel like an awkwardly placed piece of furniture. 

The situation was this: Her father had shooed her away to 'go and have some fun.' Fun did not seem to be forthcoming. 

No one liked attending a social event with their parents but such was the burden of those who attended the Garreg Mach welcome ceremony. Other Blue Lions seemed thin on the ground which was unfortunate as a familiar face would have helped. If Ingrid did not find either a conversation or a dance partner soon, she would begin to stick out dreadfully. Already her face ached from preventing her expression from slipping into one of displeasure.

Rescue came from an unexpected source. 

"Good evening,"

A girl in a red dress. She had long hair curling around her shoulders and her makeup was artfully done. This was undoubtedly the kind of girl Ingrid was supposed to be like. Perfectly put together, at ease with glamour, predatory in a way Ingrid could never hope to pull off. 

"Dorothea. I'm in the Black Eagles class."

Dorothea held her hand out and Ingrid knew that a gentleman would kiss the back. Ingrid shook it instead, her grip firm.

"Ingrid of House Galatea. Blue Lions. Dorothea of...where did you say?"

“I didn’t. I'm Dorothea of nothing. Is that a problem?" Dorothea flashed her teeth. Ingrid faltered. 

“N-no, of course not. I do apologise. I forgot where I was for a moment.”

“Too used to rubbing shoulders with nobles, hmm? Maybe you can introduce me to some.”

“I would be happy to,” she said cautiously. “As long as you do not mind them being a tad...troublesome.”

Dorothea laughed. “A bit of trouble keeps things lively.”

“Indeed,” said Ingrid. The last time she’d seen Sylvain, he’d had a girl on each side caught in the midst of an argument and Felix glowering at him from a distance. ‘Lively’ was certainly one word for it. 

“I think I’ve heard of you, Ingrid. Of a maiden both fierce and lovely."

"I don't know about that."

"Having now met you, I am convinced of it. Although-" 

Dorothea peered at her face, getting a bit too close for Ingrid's liking. "It's most unfair you look so fine without a face of makeup."

Ingrid laughed nervously and took a step back. Dorothea smelt very floral and her lips looked shiny-soft. The epitome of all things feminine. 

"Dorothea, there is no need to flatter me. I know I’m not very good at...fashion." 

"Well, I was trying to be polite, but you said it, not me!”

Ingrid sighed. “In the stories, knights are always wonderfully handsome without putting much thought into it.”

“Oh, no! I didn’t mean to suggest you were anything other than gorgeous. It’s just, your outfit is a little...old fashioned. Though I will admit that the poofy skirt kind of works on you.”

Ingrid felt herself going red but she wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed, angry or pleased at the compliment.

“Anyway…” Dorothea lowered her voice. “There’s a boy staring at you.”

“E-excuse me?”

Dorothea took her arm and turned her around a couple of steps. Ingrid inhaled a breath full of perfume and was tempted to make a comment about respect for personal space. But her curiosity distracted her. She could see two students she didn’t recognise. Both were boys and they were laughing together, perfectly at ease. One of them did seem to be shooting glances in her direction. He was tall and well built with curly brown hair.

He was cute. 

He didn’t look like Glenn. 

Dorothea fluffed her hair and licked her lips which shouldn't have made Ingrid feel a sudden rush of heat. 

“The sons of two Adrestian lords. Let’s introduce ourselves.”

Dorothea linked her arm through Ingrid’s as though they’d been friends forever. Then she was marching them over before Ingrid could think of a reason to protest.

XxX

“Good evening! A pleasure to meet two fellow Black Eagles. This is my friend Ingrid.”

Ingrid smiled and bowed before remembering that ladies should curtsy. Dorothea smirked but the boys didn’t seem to think anything of it.

“Sergei,” said her observer. He had freckles and a cheeky smile. But there was something - something in the way he looked at her - that was suddenly so like Glenn that it made her blood freeze. She hoped her smile didn’t look too strained.

“Ingrid of Galatea, isn’t it?” said his friend. “I’m Adric.”

Both of them were looking at her, gazes drinking her up. Dorothea might as well have been a passing waiter. Which really made no sense because Dorothea was beautiful and Ingrid was...old fashioned. 

“May I request a dance, Ingrid?” Sergei asked. 

Ingrid searched the room, looking for an escape, an acquaintance she could use to free herself. Instead, she met her father’s eye. He was beaming at her with such pride that she felt pinned in place. 

“Of course.”

She took Sergei’s hand and tried to remember where to put her feet. It had been a while. Maybe too long. The familiar steps took her mind elsewhere. 

Glenn hadn’t liked dancing but he’d always been better at it than her. They’d practice in the Fraldarius ballroom in the early morning, when no one else was awake. Usually they’d spend the time sparring, but every now and again Ingrid would be forced into a dress and taken to an occasion that required dancing. 

“I don’t see why I should go,” she muttered. 

Glenn huffed out a sigh.“Knights learn to dance to protect their lord or lady without being an embarrassment. And because their fathers say so.”

They didn’t practice to music. Ingrid tried to time her steps with Glenn’s breath instead. He smelt like green tea and sword metal. His hands on her were so gentle that she could barely feel them. They weren’t supposed to be alone without a chaperone but that rule had always seemed stupid to Ingrid. Glenn always handled her with such care. Nothing ever made her feel as safe as his guiding touch. 

She looked up at him, at his mouth set in concentration, the way his hair trailed in his wake and the furrow between his eyebrows. 

He was beautiful and he was hers. 

Ingrid trod on Glenn's right foot, which sent them both staggering.

“You have two left feet,” he grumbled. Ingrid cast her gaze down, feeling despondent that she’d disappointed him. But then Glenn reached in and lifted her chin so their eyes met. “Again, Ingrid.”

Ingrid wasn't sure if she'd raised herself up or if Glenn had leant down. But what she'd never forget was the way his lips felt on hers and how they'd told her all the things that he could never say. 

"Ingrid? You alright?" 

Sergei was clumsier, his grip on her too firm to be comfortable. 

"Apologies. I am fine," mumbled Ingrid. 

She was relieved when the dance came to an end and they could go back to Adric and Dorothea.

“I didn’t know common folk knew how to dance like that,” Adric was saying to Dorothea. “Your steps have such finesse.” 

As soon as Ingrid approached, Adric's gaze turned back to her. Dorothea’s eyes flashed. She wasn’t used to being ignored and Ingrid couldn’t blame her for being annoyed. Her light tone betrayed nothing, however. “I used to perform for a famous opera company.”

“Where?” asked Ingrid.

“Mittelfrank.”

Adric let out a low whistle and swivelled back to Dorothea. Now he was interested. And what a trump card Dorothea had in whatever ridiculous game they were playing!

“Give us a song, then.”

“In the middle of this din? I think not!”

An opera star in a combat school - how gloriously random. “We can’t just leave…” Ingrid protested. But she was already coming around to the idea. 

“Just for a song or two,” said Dorothea. “Come on, Ingrid. People pay hundreds to hear me sing and you’ll be getting it for free!”

The part of Ingrid’s mind that liked a bargain fought against the part worried about getting in trouble for leaving. 

But what really decided it was Dorothea’s smile. 

XxX

Dorothea delivered her promised songs from atop an empty table in the darkened food hall. The candles they'd lit cast her face in dramatic shadow and Ingrid waa spellbound. 

The song was about lost love. It was over the top maudlin with lots of long, drawn out notes. 

It could almost be called The Ballad of Ingrid and Glenn, she mused. Though she doubted Glenn would ever say her eyes were diamonds and her hair was liquid gold. He'd be more likely to say: "Ingrid, your hair is in your eyes. How are you going to win half blind?" 

Dorothea finished her song with a flourish and a curtsy. Ingrid started when the boys started to applaud. She'd been lost in her own world. 

"Very lovely," said Adric. "Let's drink to it. There must be some booze in here somewhere."

Sergei picked up a candle and headed to the kitchen. There was an awkward silence while they listened to him clattering around. 

Ingrid offered Dorothea a hand and helped her hop down from the table. 

"Why does such a talented singer want to attend a combat school?" Ingrid asked. 

Dorothea flushed but before she could reply Sergei returned with an open bottle of wine. 

"Not really enough left for four," he said. He directed the comment at Adric, who nodded and then offered his arm to Dorothea. 

"Would you do me the honour of accompanying me on the search for more wine?" 

"Why, of course. What a gentleman."

Dorothea shot Ingrid a smile and a knowing glance. 

"We'll be back in a tick."

Ingrid wondered if Dorothea had caught the downright lecherous way Adric was looking at her. She tried and failed to make further eye contact before they left. 

Worry began to set in. Letting Dorothea go off alone with a strange boy did not sit well with her. 

“You’re very pretty, Ingrid.”

First, though, Ingrid had her own situation to deal with. 

Sergei sounded earnest enough but she wasn’t moved. It wasn’t that Sergei had done anything wrong, it was just all a little too quick for Ingrid. The expectation of what might happen next was written in the way he looked at her. The dark canteen sprung up strange shadows around them. 

It made her uneasy. 

Sergei poured some wine into a paper cup meant for coffee or tea and handed it to her. She would have felt immensely better if she could have bid Dorothea a proper goodbye. The uneasiness in her stirred, making her stomach clench. Sergei poured himself a cup and then raised it up.

“A toast to our own, more intimate party.”

Ingrid smiled thinly. Glenn’s spectre still fluttered somewhere she couldn’t see. Glenn had tasted like green tea when he kissed her. 

Sergei would taste like wine. 

Ingrid gulped from her cup and then sputtered. The taste of alcohol was far stronger than what she was accustomed to. 

“What is this?”

“Wine.”

“Wine and what else?”

“Ah, just a little Adrestian liquer. It’s good!”

“Not to my taste,” said Ingrid, not caring if she seemed rude. Glenn's ghost berated her for being careless and alone with a stranger… She placed the cup on the table. When she turned back, Sergei had shifted a little closer. He dared to place a hand on her chin and move his face closer still. It wasn’t gentle. His arms caged her in much too tightly.

The swift crack of palm to cheek echoed through the room. Ingrid was no swooning maiden. 

“Ah! Bitch!” Sergei bit out. “You could have just said no.”

“Really? You did not seem prepared to give me that choice,” said Ingrid. “May I remind you that I have been training in hand to hand combat since I was a child.”

What she didn't say was that it would be damn right disrespectful to lose her second kiss, which should have been Glenn’s, to him. 

(All her kisses should have been Glenn’s)

Ingrid stood up, untrembling. Unyielding.

“Don’t come after me.”

XxX

Ingrid started looking for Dorothea. She didn't know why she cared so much about a girl she'd just met. Maybe Dorothea wanted to...be intimate...with Adric. They might have been the same age but she’d seemed so much more worldly and confident than Ingrid. Maybe she was the kind of person who didn’t care about virtue.

A search of the courtyard and the training hall gave no answers. All Ingrid achieved was scaring several cats. Maybe they had gone back to the party. Maybe she should go back to it too. At the very least, she could enlist someone to help her look for Dorothea. 

As she turned back, she heard a voice calling her:

“Ingrid! Ingrid!”

Dorothea clacked towards her, moving more quickly in heels than Ingrid could ever hope to accomplish. 

“Are you alright? Sergei said you walloped him and left!”

“I am fine. What about you? I was worried that...” Ingrid trailed off. Dorothea looked fine. Positively sparkling in fact. 

“I had a bit of an accident and spilled my wine all over poor Adric. Luckily he found it in his heart to forgive clumsy old me.”

“Well, that’s lucky.”

There was a gleam in Dorothea’s eye that suggested there was more to the story than she was telling. 

“You know, Sergei has quite the shiner. I felt a little sorry for him.”

“He tried to get me drunk.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to deliver such a good backhander. But for now-” Dorothea held up an unopened and thus untampered with bottle of wine. “Have a drink with me?”

XxX

It was far, far too late and Ingrid had drunk enough wine that her head was pleasantly fuzzy. The music from the party was muffled in the background, far away. Dorothea had found them a spot overlooking the pond and they sat with their legs dangling over the side and the wine bottle sandwiched between them.

“I am done with boys. I am done with courting all together,” announced Ingrid. "All they see is a noble, a crest and our future children."

"That's marriage. Names and crests last a lifetime, so you don't have to rush."

Dorothea picked the wine up and gulped a couple of mouthfuls. There was an edge to her voice that Ingrid was sober enough to pick at. 

"At least you are free to do as you please without the weight of a family name." 

"Free to starve, maybe. I will not be young and beautiful forever."

"I do not believe it," declared Ingrid. "You will always be beautiful."

Dorothea had a tinkling laugh. "You are quite drunk, Ingrid. But thank you."

"I will certainly have stern words with anyone who makes you think otherwise."

Dorothea passes Ingrid the bottle so she can take a turn sipping from it. 

"What would you do if you didn't have to marry?" asked Dorothea. 

"My dream is to become a knight. I have wanted it for as long as I can remember. My betrothed-" 

Ingrid broke off. She suddenly felt tearful. Glenn had been haunting her all night and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he'd left her at the mercy of strange Adrestian boys and an ex-opera singer. He should be here with her, proud that she's finally at Garreg Mach, ready to push her training further. Glenn had always believed in her. She didn't know how she was going to find that belief in anybody else. 

The wine barely tasted of anything when she glugged it. Dorothea took it off her before she could down the bottle. The singer's face was full of the question she hadn't asked. 

Ingrid took a breath. 

"Glenn died. And I only got to kiss him once."

Awkward silence. Ingrid wished she hadn't mentioned it. She reached for the wine again but Dorothea moved it away. 

"I'm sorry, Ingrid."

"I am yet to kiss anyone else. When I thought Sergei might, it felt like betrayal."

“Maybe you should just get your second kiss over with. To help you accept that it's never going to be from Glenn.”

“That feels a little unfair to the other party.”

“Not if the other party has heard your story, understands the situation and is also a little drunk."

Dorothea faced her, eyebrows raised. Her eyes lingered on Ingrid's lips and Ingrid felt herself flush pink. When Sergei tried his luck, she was tense, on edge. But Dorothea… 

Dorothea smelt sweet and soft and she was absolutely everything Glenn could never be. Kissing girls wasn't something Ingrid had thought about and was bound to make things more complicated but- but-

Dorothea's smile. It made her heart thump. 

"Yes," said Ingrid. 

It was a short, sweet press of lips that tasted like wine and possibility. It was difficult to think of anything but Dorothea's warmth, the softness of her skin and the brush of her hair against Ingrid's cheek. 

"There," said Dorothea. "You are hereby free to kiss whoever you want."

"Thank you, Dorothea. I will not forget this."

"I should hope not! Kisses from me aren't easy to come by."

Ingrid laughed and some of the tension dissipated. The rest of the night slipped away in a haze of wine and talking nonsense. 

Perhaps Ingrid would kiss Dorothea again. Perhaps she would not. But the kiss had been a worthy successor to the one Glenn had given her and the start of a beautiful friendship.


End file.
